Burden
by Juclesia
Summary: Zutara. More original than you may think. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: (I'm only doing this once, so listen up. It's such a hassle doing this in _every _chapter.) I don't own Avatar: The Last Air Bender. So don't sue.

This is my first Avatar fic, so be nice.

* * *

Burden

I

_The quiet before the storm._

No words can describe the pure beauty of the city of Gansu on that day. The sun which shone down, and cast its autumn glow upon the intricate maze of fine Earth Nation architecture, belied the stinging chill in the air. The sound of decorative chimes swaying with the breeze soothed the senses; and the distant laughter of children beckoned a warm feeling of security. Even when entering the busiest area of the market, the chatting was but a low hum, no louder than that of a cicada on an autumn evening, as though the inhabitants feared to disturb Mother Nature.

Unfortunately, a sudden sound rung out, clashing with nature's sweet harmony.

"_So hungry!_"

"Sokka!" said Katara, shooting her brother an admonishing glare. "Can you be _any _louder?"

"Sorry!" Sokka pouted. "I was just trying to talk over the growling of my stomach! You wouldn't happen to know when the last time we ate was, would you?"

Inclining his head slightly, Aang smiled. "Sorry, Sokka. But food isn't why we're here."

"Then why _are_ we here?"

"We're here," reminded Katara, coldly, "because that vagabond told us an earth-bending master lived in these parts. You know this is the perfect opportunity for Aang to learn earth-bending!"

Sokka took on an irritated expression, crossed his arms. "And why, exactly, should we listen to some bum, huh? For all we know, he could be some kinda spy for the Fire Nation, luring us down here as some sort of trap for Zuko to try and capture Aang again!"

Before Sokka had realized it, Aang and Katara had frozen in their tracks. They stared, vacantly, in silent awe at the possibility in Sokka's words. The thought hadn't even crossed their mind that all of this could be a trap, but it seemed so eerily possible.

"Guys?" Sokka turned to the others, noticing they were no longer in stride beside him. "W-why'd you stop?"

"Oh my gosh, Aang," Katara said softly, "what if Sokka's right?"

Aang spoke calmly, but his heart pounded with distant fear. "W-well, we won't know unless we keep going. I mean,"— he started forward again, stiffly— "if we leave now, we could be missing out on an opportunity, right?"

Katara sighed with evident anxiety, forced a smile, then nodded. "Yeah . . . you're right."

* * *

"Are you sure? He had a blue arrow on his head?" 

"Yep," replied the old vagabond, shooting the interrogators an innocent, toothless smile. It faded, however, after a moment, with faint confusion. ". . . Or maybe it was green."

"Never mind the color!" shouted the hotheaded boy. "An arrow! Did he have an arrow tattooed on his forehead!"

Good gods, the elderly were so difficult! thought Zuko bitterly. And to think, it wouldn't be long until Uncle Iroh was as bewildered and lost as this old geezer.

"Yes," said the man, "yes, I believe so."— Thoughtfully he scratched his head— . "Such strange things youngsters do nowadays. Tattoos! Goodness gracious! Back in my day, we—,"

"I don't need a history lesson!" spat Zuko. "C'mon, Uncle!"

"Where are we going?"

"To the Avatar, of course!"

"Not so fast, Prince Zuko," reproached Iroh. "We do not know how long ago the Avatar headed for Gansu."

"It was about a day or so ago," the man interrupted. "If things went well, I would guess he's made it there by now."

"Let's go, Uncle!"

After bowing humbly to the wanderer, Iroh turned and rushed to follow his nephew.

Nothing would distract Zuko now. Now that he knew of the Avatar's location.

* * *

Review. The more reviews, the more it encourages me to continue. 


	2. Chapter 2

Whoa! Thanx goes to all of you who reviewed! I really didn't expect so many on just the first chapter! So, you asked for it, and here it is:

* * *

Burden

II

"Hello? Is anybody here?"

Aang's voice echoed back along the temple walls, rebounding with such sharpness and preciseness one would think it were a child, playfully mimicking the Airbender. But the echoes soon died, and a tense silence once again reigned over the three.

They looked about almost anxiously for someone— anyone— who would answer Aang and relieve their taut nerves. In doing so, however,they soon found themselves distracted with the small yet admirable intricacies of the temple that are often overlooked at first glance. Extravagant, detailed artwork lay engraved into the walls; names had been inscribed into the rows of pillars which soared to the hand-carved ceiling.

And finally, steps could be seen at the opposite end, leading up to a massive statue of what Aang guessed was the Earthbender they were searching for.

The individual it represented sat in formal fashion, his sleeved arms folded neatly in his lap, back straight and head held high. A mustache swerved round his lips, accompanied by a beard that elongated until it lapsed on to his folded arms. Such wisdom lied in that face. Experience shone in his stone eyes; discipline was evident in the wrinkles which creased his forehead and cheeks.

This was him. The Master the wanderer had referred to. Aang just knew it.

"Ah — ah—ah— ahhhhh– _CHOO!_"

Aang and Katara flinched at the sudden sound, and angrily Katara whirled on Sokka.

"You have a knack for ruining the moment, you know that!"

Sokka sniffled and gingerly caressed his nose to rid of the tickle. "Well, get rid of those damn flowers then!" he snapped. "You know I have a sensitive nose. Why'd you have to buy them anyway? Gonna be kinda hard to care for them when we practically live on Oppa's back, don't you think?"

Katara flushed, and, puckering her lips defensively, she cradled the bouquet of flowers like a mother would an infant. "I couldn't help it," she said, and her voice grew softer before continuing. " . . . They were mother's favorite . . . I had to have them."

It wasn't like Katara to throw her gaze downcast like she did presently. It just was not in her fiery, stubborn nature. Sokka stared, unsure of what to say, or if he should in fact say anything at all.

Besides, how could he possibly, when it was a comment about their mother she had made?

"Ahem."

The man from whom the sound came had been as quiet as a thief in the night when approaching the three from behind– so that even Aang, the mighty Avatar, sailed at least a foot into the air from surprise. Katara started as well; and Sokka released one of his unnaturally-pitched yelps of which puberty was the culprit.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said the man quickly, bowing for forgiveness. "It was not my intention to frighten you."

"It's okay," replied Aang. Then he flashed one of his charming grins, and took a confident step forward. "We came to see an Earthbending Master. We were told he was here?"

The man smiled and nodded, rendering relieved simpers on to travelers' faces. "Oh, how kind of you to come and visit him."

"A-actually," Katara interjected, politely, "m-my friend, Aang, wanted to learn from him. Does he teach?"

The man blinked, then frowned, confused. He stared at her for a moment, as though he'd not grasped her words. And, suddenly deeply saddened, he shook his head. "Oh, dear. I'm— truly sorry.You didn't know? . . . Our beloved Hu Zhang passed away seven years ago."

An awkward silence fell upon them, as thick as an animal pelt.

A moment later: "Dead?" Sokka squeaked. "But we went a day off course to come down here to learn from this guy— _oomph_!"

"_Sokka!_" Katara hissed, nudging her sibling hard in the ribs.

"But you may still pay your respects, if you wish."

The man was smiling expectantly when Katara turned back to him, and, almost automatically, her gaze fell to the bouquet in her arms.

She knew what he was suggesting, but she was hesitant. Having these flowers in her grasp, the flowers which she recalled clearly entrancing her mother long ago— well, as asinine as it sounded, it felt vaguely as though she were clinging to Mother herself.

But could she really refuse?When it would bringdishonor toHu Zhang?

Visible discomfort was writ on Katara's face, as she fought a battle within herself. Reluctantly, she looked up, and forced a smile; "Sure."

* * *

The temple, they learned, had been built specifically in respect for Master Hu Zhang after he'd died. Three entire years it had taken, to build the masterpiece— three grueling years of constant work and sweat, from the finest Earthbenders of Gansu. But hard work was nothing in comparison to completing that temple for the one who had saved their entire village from annihilation.

Hu Zhang had not only been the Earthbending Master of Gansu, but also its hero. When the Fire Nation had shown up on their doorstep (of course the other Earthbenders did everything they could), he'd been they one who had warded them off as though they were nothing but mere ruffians. From that day on, to the day he died, his name was to go down in Gansu history.

And when that time had come, the completion of his temple, the whole city had gathered to pay their respects, to shed their grateful tears onto his grave—

Presently, the three were lead through the winding halls of the temple, until they reached an arched doorway which led into a courtyard.

The courtyard was rather small, 18' x 20' at most. But for what size it may have lacked, it made up with its inconceivable beauty and tranquility.

Aang was welcomed with the sporadic warmth of the evening sun, as he stepped through the opening and on to the tufts of lush, green grass. He lifted his face to catch the last bit of it, right before it receded into the air's initial crispness. Next he took in the sweet fragrance of the superfluous blooms that surrounded them. They and the abundance of orchard trees lay enveloped in a subtle orange film beneath the sunset, and slowly swayed with an unfelt breeze.

Beyond that, through the glowing chestnut branches, a headstone was visible.

Katara, Aang, and Sokka headed toward it on their own accord, not bothering to wait for their guide who seemed to have disappeared behind them.

Katara was lost in thought as she moved subconsciously to kneel before the grave. There she placed the wintersweets gingerly upon the soil, and read aloud from the words that were carved into the stone:

**Here lies Hu Zhang, Earthbending Master and hero, who protected **

**the city of Gansu from the wrath of the Fire Nation. Albeit he was not **

**a native to Gansu, the inhabitants will cherish him as their own. **

It was so— sad. For Katara that is. As she knelt there, staring blankly at the words, that ember of emptiness in her heart began to glow, reminding her shamelessly of the village she no longer had.

If only she and Sokka had had that kind of luck. If only they had had a hero at the time.

Memory was such a heavy burden. It was like a fuse, slowly eating away at the rope which led to her insanity— or the shattering of her spirit.

If only there were away to rid herself of those memories that haunted her so.

"H-hey, guys," Sokka stammered, coming up to stand besidehis sister,"what's that?"

Katara looked up, followed Sokka's line of sight. A few feet beyond the headstone a pillar protruded from the wall. She climbed to her feet, and, craning her neck, squinted at a piece of parchment which lay within the recess in the pillar. It was difficult to see, for it was least 11 ft high---

But after a moment of concentration, realization struck her, and she gasped. Vigorously she pointed to it, roughly pulled at Aang's collar. "I-it's a scroll!" she cried, then deliberately brought her voice down to a hush whisper. "It must be the scroll on Hu Zhang's technique! You could learn from that!"

"How?" Sokka said, skeptically. Arching a brow, he crossed his arms. "They're not just gonna— let us _borrow_ Hu Zhang's scroll. They practically worship the guy! That scroll's like,_ sacred_ to them!"

Katara's face fell.

Aang smiled, however, when an idea came into his head. "What if we just told him I was the Avatar?" he asked logically. "They'd have to let me learn from it then, right?"

"The Avatar? You're the Avatar?"

All three whirled to find the man behind them, a look of astonishment on his face. Then a slow simper stretched his thin, old lips. "My, my, what a pleasant surprise!"

Hurriedly Aang rushed to the old man, clasped his hands in plea. "Please! I need to learn Earthbending. If you could just let me borrow that scroll"— Aang pointed to the pillar— "then I could give it back as soon as I was done!"

The man shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Avatar or not, that scroll is precious to us. And as good as your intentions may be, I cannot trust a child totake care of our city's scroll."

"Please"— katara was the one to speak now— "I would keep the scroll in my care; you can trust me."

"No."

"Please!"

The man's lips twitched, and he said once again, more firmly: "I'm sorry, but no! Now, I'm sure you can find other Earthbenders elsewhere who would be glad to teach you—,"

"But Aang needs a master—!"

"— then I'm sure there are_ Masters_ elsewhere who would be more than happy to take in such an eager pupil." He exhaled after a moment, relaxed his tense shoulders, and the pleasant smile returned as though the discussion had never happened. "Now," he drawled, "would any of you care for a cup of fine chi meng tea? A Gansu original."

In her mind, Katara was counting to ten. With each number, though, she felt her temper was rising instead of fading, and she was sure she would explode. Her angered breaths quickened as her clenched fists trembled at her sides; her eyes shone an icy, murderous blue.

And suddenly, without explanation, it vanished. Her expression mirrored his own, with an angelic smile that told of only good intention, and a slight tilt to the head. "Why, yes," she replied, "if you wouldn't mind; tea sounds heavenly at the moment."

Nodding, the man turned and vanished through the doorway to comply with his guests' wishes.

As soon as he left, Katara's smile faded and her nostrils flared.

"What was that all about, Katara?" asked Aang. "I don't want any tea."

Shedidn't answer. Instead, she turned back to face the pillar with a sigh— a sigh that signified a decision. "If he won't let Aang borrow the scroll," she said, "then we'll just have to borrow it without his permission . . ."

* * *

It was twilight hour, when the sky glowed with the receding light of the sun. However, within the forest, the creatures did not have the privilege of light at this time, due to the intricate weaving of branches that sewed out the sky's faint glow, save for the occasional sprays that managed to penetrate the weaker patches of leaves. But even then, no creature that dwelled at the bottom, among the fallen leaves and twigs and bushes, would have ever known those soft sprays existed.

In the darkness, from out the bushes came a small animal, minding its own business— only to be crushed moments later by a paw that was two times larger than itself.

A beautiful woman climbed down from her massive pet, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The mere sight of her would have stopped any man dead in his tracks; she was a tall, elegant woman, with a fiery temper and lack of compassion; her dress, as fine as silk and made deliberately to flaunt skin, complimented her thin, curvaceous figure; her smooth, black tresses fell unevenly parted, therefore only one of her almond-shaped eyes being revealed upon her radiant face.

She was beautiful, yes— but so is cobra, which moves with such grace and elegance that belie its poison. And so the same went with Jun— for she was as deadly as she was beautiful.

Leisurely she strode through the darkness, until she came to what she was looking for.

Not that she doubted her pet's abilities in sniffing the brat out, oh, not at all. She just wanted certainty, nothing more.

Carefully, not wanting to dirty her dress, Jun crouched down and began to sweep away the leaves.

And there, sure enough, were the footsteps of no doubt the ones whom she was searching for. A sense of triumph thumped in her chest, just knowing she was on the track, and a slow, wicked smile graced her fine red lips.

"I've finally found you . . . Avatar."

* * *

(Hey, what's the name of Jun's pet?)

So, yes, I was initially going to combine chapters two and three, but it turned out being way too long. So I guess I'll have to tease you a little longer. Til then, keep reviewing if you want me to continue


	3. Chapter 3

**Burden**

**III**

"Quiet, uncle!" Zuko hissed, as every fiber of his being became taut at the sudden realization. "Do you hear that?"

Iroh blinked. Why did it appear that every time he was telling a good story of wisdom or past experience, his nephew always coincidentally heard something or saw something or was suddenly too tired to listen to him? If the old man didn't know any better, he would say Zuko didn't take interest in his stories. But nonetheless, he sealed his lips and hearkened to nature's silence, trying hard to pick up some tiny sound that Zuko and the men apparently heard so well. Each had that tenseness to them; their eyes shifted this way and that in suspicion— or fear. But Iroh heard nothing. And age was to blame.

"Breathing, uncle," said the Prince finally, not bothering to scold Iroh for his deafness. _And I know that breathing anywhere._

Without warning (merely on impulse) Zuko dashed forward through the bushes and out of sight of the others. They looked to one another, waited a moment longer lest Zuko come back, then scrambled almost clumsily after him, perplexed by his abrupt action.

However, none of them had expected what they saw as they made it into the clearing. And in a moment of assumption, a victorious smile chased across each of their faces— some began to cheer.

The bison. The flying bison which they day after tiring day searched for in the sky, the bison which always served as the Avatar's escape. And wherever the bison was, the Avatar—

"Where is he!" The fierceness in their leader's voice startled them, compelling them to take a step back. Zuko advanced on the beast, was rewarded with a warning growl from deep in its throat which he in his boldness did not heed, and spoke firmly, tone demanding, as though he expected an answer from the creature: "Where is the Avatar!"

"Calm down, Prince Zuko!" Iroh reproached, as he made his way to lay a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "Do not let your anger corrupt your logic. I presume he would have gone ahead into Gansu without the creature, seeing as its size can easily draw unwanted attention; may be a little intimidating."

Zuko listened to his uncle, breathed slowly. And after a moment he gave a curt nod signaling his agreement.

"Fine then," he said, technically. Then, studying the animal; "But regardless, I will not just simply leave this thing be."

With that, Iroh did not expect it when Zuko then so suddenly wrenched himself from his grip.

Eyes hard and gleaming with resentment, the Prince gracefully crouched down into offensive stance, hands set in poise. He stared steadily at his massive opponent, who in return glared back— and for a instant— but an instant— Zuko could have sworn he saw his hatred reflected in those eyes. In a way it seemed the creature knew his intent and tensed, hardening his gaze, challenging Zuko in a competition of intimidation. A burning heat began to surface at the Prince's fingertips; his golden orbs flared and flickered brightly from the flames that commenced to radiate from his palms—

"Do not do it, Prince Zuko!" exclaimed Iroh.

The old man received a glower. "Why not?"

"Think about it!" continued Iroh, speaking hurriedly. "Think of how much more difficult it would be without the bison, Prince Zuko! It is the Avatar's beacon; it is what allows you to keep track of the him. To have to search for him on ground— the Earth is cluttered, while the skies are clear, Prince Zuko!"

Tenseness pervaded the air among them like a toxin. Iroh had known the boy his entire life— more responsible for his upbringing than perhaps even the Fire Lord himself, and thus had long grown accustomed to Zuko's stubborn nature. Getting through to Zuko required first piercing the thick shell of obstinance, which confined his brain like an oyster its pearl. But with the right amount of pressure, it was possible. Presently, Zuko remained still; and he was analyzing his words, Iroh ascertained. His jaws ground, while his eyes stared.

Finally, after prolonged suspense, he withdrew and grumbled under his breath. He knew his uncle was right. The thing from the very beginning of his journey had been his key to spotting the Avatar. Without it, it was undecipherable just how much longer it would take to obtain victory.

So it was settled then...

But still, the Avatar would surely call for the beast. It would be inconvenient were the thing not to comply . . .

After a minute Zuko turned his head so as one eye fell upon his men. "Who has the du-powder?" he asked, sharply. "Someone give it to me."

The order sudden, it startled them slightly. One acquiesced immediately, making his way through the crowd, placing a small bag into the palm of Zuko's waiting hand. The soldier, along with the others as well, knew very well what the Prince's intents were upon this command. So as Zuko made to advance on the creature, and the thing's defense kicked in, a small number of them thoughtlessly moved to assist their leader.

Upon approach, though, a blur of black cut through the air. One of the men beside Zuko hollered and stumbled back, frantically clawing at his face. Ah, not his face per se— but the thing that clung to it. He yelled, bellowed, danced and staggered as its claws embedded themselves in his flesh. But like a leech, it was tenacious, and never budged.

"Don't just stand there!" barked Zuko. "Someone help him, you fools!"

As a few dazed men fumbled to follow orders, Zuko and the group of soldiers no longer wasted time. They acted quickly, the subordinates hooking and chaining the beast to cease his feral movements, while Prince Zuko meanwhile dished out the appreciable amount of powder he needed.

Once the thing was harbored (just enough so his movements were limited), beneath rows and rows of chains and nets, the men stood clear as Zuko advanced the creature.

The bison stilled when the Prince's shadow fell upon him. It looked at him, exhaled sharply through its nose.

Zuko scowled. "Stupid animal."

And with an effortless breath the powder was blown square into its face— and it went into a spontaneous fit, struggling to loosen the chains, struggling to evade the powder—

but stillness conquered in the end. The creature soon fell limp, breathing rhythmic, even.

"Now you won't get in my way," said the royal Firebender.

"Prince Zuko."

Zuko turned to regard the man who had spoken.

Among the crowd of soldiers, cries of pain were still audible, though softer, reduced to whining. The man who had addressed Zuko continued. "What should we do with the lemur? Should we put him to sleep as well?"

The Prince nodded, curtly. "Yes. Him, too."

* * *

"What!" Sokka exclaimed, shocked. "Katara, have you lost your mind!" 

He earned an indignant glare. "No. The exact opposite. Look, Sokka, it's obvious they're not going to let us borrow the scroll." He said nothing. "Like I said, just think of it as borrowing without permission. We'll bring it back as soon as we're finished with it."

Sokka scoffed in reply, throwing up his arms in frustration. "Hello! Am I the _only_ one who's having dejavu here! 'Cause I seem to remember a certain someone stealing a water scroll from a bunch of pirates— and oh! what brilliant idea that was!"

"Well," said Katara, slyly, arms folded, "we'll just be more careful."

"And I _thought _you said you'd learned your lesson about stealing?" Sokka continued, his glare increasing tenfold.

"Borrowing! It's borrowing!"

Deciding not to come between the two siblings (which he'd done before and had paid the consequences) Aang instead decided to commence. Almost effortlessly, his body uplifted like a feather, ascending gracefully toward the recess.

Sokka faltered in mid-sentence and turned. Upon doing so, he gave an exasperated sigh when acknowledging that Aang was already airborne. "No one ever listens to me!"

Aang looked over his shoulder. "Don't worry, Sokka," he assured, wedging both feet into the corners where the slab of rock met the wall, "we'll bring it back." One hand kept himself braced and balanced, while the other worked vigorously yet gingerly to remove the parchment from the steel restraint which held it in place.

And abruptly, Aang heard a rip, and his heart instantly stopped.

"Aang, hurry!" Katara hissed in a harsh whisper, sounding suddenly frantic.

The boy's head turned slightly, and almost snappishly, "I'm going as fast as I can!" Again he worked at the restraint, fingers now trembling under pressure. _Almost there, almost there— _forehead creased, tongue running along his upper lip in concentration— _almost there, almost there!_

"Hurry up!" It was Sokka who spoke this time. Paranoia pulling his nerves taut, he threw another anxious glance over his shoulder. "The old geezer's comin' back!"

"Got it!" Aang smiled triumphantly, his eyes quickly running over the scroll. Then, hearing the others' urgent whispers, he rolled it up while dropping down lightly onto his two feet.

Sokka's brows lowered. "He's coming; we gotta go— now!"

Not needing to be told twice, Aang fumbled hurriedly with his glider. He beckoned both Katara and Sokka, who complied to grab on to him. They spiraled upward at the boy's command, out of the courtyard and into the night sky, where they glided over the wondrous city of Gansu, and dreaded the man's reaction to when he would find the scroll stolen— ahem, let's rephrase that: 'borrowed without permission'. For after all, they would bring it back.

Gansu, each of them noted, was just as mind-blowing at night as it was during daylight. Torches could be seen here and there, as they threw their soft, radiant glow through the spotless streets. Upon the moon-kissed roof-tops of homes the sound of music could be heard gently wafting with the breeze. Laughter was muffled but audible through the open windows.

But soon their somewhat element of peace vanished as they set foot outside the walls of the city.

There Aang blew hard into his whistle, his cheeks reddening in effort. As always, no sound was made (which had always made Sokka dubious). Silence fell upon them for a moment, as they awaited Oppa's arrival—

— and at least a few minutes they stood there, still, unmoving. Perplexed, Aang looked expectantly down at the whistle. "I don't understand," he said softly. "He should have been here by now."

Sokka crossed his arms, shifted his weight. "Told you that thing didn't work."

"M-maybe he just— didn't hear it, Aang," said Katara, soothingly, but even she doubted her words.

"No—," Aang shook his head, "— it _does _work. And no, Oppa _always _hears it."

Just then, gongs from within the walls sounded, startling the three. Their eyes darted to the doors. They could make out voices, distressed, angry voices, coming from inside. And immediately, like hunted animals they started down the path which led away from Gansu, not daring to look back as they heard the tall doors creak ajar.

As they ran, Aang attempted once more to blow into the whistle. But nothing. "Where is he!" he cried, nearly stumbling over a rock.

"I— don't— know—," Sokka said between breaths, "but it's obvious he not coming!"

"He's right Aang! We need your glider!"

Unsatisfied by their responses to his question, Aang angrily withdrew his glider once more, grunting as Katara and Sokka practically leaped on to him. They would have been able to soar into the sky, high above the moon-tinted clouds, unseen in the blackness, had they not been prevented to do so. They were but ten feet into the sky when an arrow sped clean through the air, successfully piercing one of the glider's wings. With a shriek they crashed down through the twining branches, colliding painfully with a bed of leaves and twigs.

On the ground, Katara groaned. Feebly she pushed herself up with wobbly arms. "What happened?"

"The soldiers," Sokka rasped, "used arrows to shoot us down."

"My. . . glider." Aang, lying prone on the ground, blinked furiously to rid of his blurred vision. Then he positioned himself on his hands and knees, and made his way slowly to his damaged glider.

His lip quivered as he stared at the toy he'd had all his life; tears brimmed his eyes— slowly, he reached down to touch his childhood memory—

when out of nowhere a wave of rock sped toward the boy. Caught off-guard, he had no time to escape it, and soon found his arm immobilized in the Earth trap.

At least a handful of Gansu soldiers appeared before them, their faces stern and set in masks of revile. "You're all under arrest for burglary," snapped one, bitterly, his fists clenched at his sides.

But a flash of movement interrupted the Earthbender, and from out the bushes leaped an enormous creature. Astride wasthe silhouette of a woman. Her features were indistinct, but her voice sent a barrage of memories flooding into Katara's mind.

"Avatar." Her voice was impure and tainted as it issued like honey from her lips, saturated with the deeds of her past. "I've found you."

"Jun!" exclaimed Aang. Heart racing, his attempts to free his arm from the between the jagged rocks now grew frantic.

They all heard the low chuckle that came from her then. "That's right."

No further statements followed, as her pet gave a nasty battle cry, starting forward to her prize. In response Aang shut his eyes against the awaited pain of its venomous tongue. However, it never came.

For instead the Earthbenders had begun to create waves of earth to block her path. They knew not of who she was, yet somehow--- subliminally it came to them that this woman possessed ill intentions.

Meanwhile, in that moment of opportunity, Sokka's head snapped to Katara, who stared petrified. "Katara!" Daze suddenly distracted, she turned to her brother. "Run! Get outta here!"

Her brow furrowed incredulously. "What! Sokka, what're you— "

"Just go! Me and Aang'll catch up with you! Just... go find Oppa!"

She hesitated a moment. It felt . . . wrong, just leaving them here. But then again, what could she do? They were near water, but not near enough. And other than Waterbending, she veritably had no sort of defense, unlike Sokka and Aang had. If she made haste and found Oppa, they could at least get out of there as quickly as possible.

Besides, she had the scroll. If she could get away, and meet up with them, then this could work.

Thus, upon rapid conclusion, she acquiesced to Sokka's demand, and hightailed it in the opposite direction. She meandered almost blindly through the trees, struggling to regain her banished breath. her heart pounded wildly in her ears, her heartbeat throbbing wildly in her ears.

As she made it to a traveler's path, a mild relief ran though her. However, it did not slow her down, and she continued to run relentlessly. Mentally, she clawed past the fear in her mind to seek out the memory of where exactly they had left Oppa, only to find it eluding her grasp. She heard a noise from behind and quickened her pace, throwing a glance over her shoulder.

Her eyes had become barely accustomed to the darkness that met them, even now, after all this time. She could see nothing behind her. And, convinced she'd been hearing things, she turned back, just in time for a hot pain to permeate like molasses through her head. It hurt like hell, throbbed with the intensity of placing a red iron to one's skin. Vaguely she registered the ground no longer being beneath her feet, and the feeling of damp leaves against her back. Her vision had already tunneled in, a fuzzy black which continued to spread like a virus across her eyes.

She fought it, pushed away the darkness which closed in on her; she did her best did regain her thoughts, which began flooding from her mind like the contents that escape from a shattered cup. But it was like trying to dish up that water with one's bare hands, and with every small amount she was able to regain, she only lost more. It was slipping away through her fingers. Soon she could not even remember why she needed to fight, and instead she relinquished her efforts, allowing the nothingness to invade her mind and senses.

* * *

It had to have been about the hundredth time his Uncle mentioned tea. It would be every so often, usually after a heavy silence, when he would suddenly sigh, and say, "Some tea sounds good right now. Jasmin, preferably." 

Over and over, and each time, it was gradually wearing down on the young Prince's nerves. He knew being a leader consisted of patience and a level head, but dear spirits he wasn't sure he could when it came to his uncle.

"Yes," Iroh drawled with a slight inclination of his head, apparently lost in his imagination. "Some hot Jasmin tea; it relaxes the mind, you know."

Zuko closed his eyes, breathed in slowly. "Yes, Uncle. I know."

"You shall have some with me when we return to the ship."

Another deep breath. "Yes, Uncle, I will."

"And we will play the Sungi horn to also relieve the senses."

He earned a growl at that. "Now you're pushing it."

Iroh gave a humorous laugh, pulling the reigns slightly on the creature beneath him.

Then abruptly, Zuko became alert, as something silhouetted caught his eye. It lay unmoving on the path ahead, its stillness like that of a predator before it pounces, making Zuko all the more tense.

In his observation,the Prince had been unaware that Iroh had continued to talk (most likely about tea). "Uncle," he said, silencing the old man, "do you see that?"

Iroh blinked, squinted a moment. Then, in mild shame, "My eyes are old, Prince Zuko. What is it? I do not see anything."

For a moment Zuko did not respond, as he continued to observe the thing in suspicion. Then, quietly, barely above a whisper: "There's . . . something in the road."

Review please.


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